


Don't Stop (Dancing)

by 100KlicksAway



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Angst, Competition, Dancers, M/M, They all want to dance, fuck it's another one, hopefully fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-02-04 07:45:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1771219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100KlicksAway/pseuds/100KlicksAway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They all wanted to dance. And so they did. </p><p>Stiles has wanted to dance his whole life. He has spent years-YEARS-practicing, practicing so hard that at times he felt like his feet were going to fall off. His hard work has paid off in the end, though, when he is accepted into several prestigious rival dance academies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Stop (Dancing)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Gif-Set of dancers!TW cast](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/54658) by Reed Fulton. 



> So... I started ANOTHER fiction. Hopefully this one won't be TOO long... heh, heh.

_**At times life is wicked and I just can't see the light** _

Stiles lets out a heavy sob as he stands in front of his mother's grave with a bundle of flowers in hand. She passed away 5 years ago to the day, but he misses her more than ever. He doesn't know what to do without her anymore. His dad has been great, but... he's the Sheriff. He's always busy, he doesn't have time for a lonely, hyperactive kid who craves attention and works out all of his extra energy through dance. Stiles doesn't want to press that, doesn't want to force his dad to pay attention to him. He doesn't want his dad to fall into the bottle again, because he's scared that he'll never come back out.

In the end, Stiles isn't sure what he wants, other than to dance. His mom took him to his first ballet lesson at the tender age of 6, and Stiles has been dancing constantly for the 12 years since then. For a while, after his mom died, his dad wanted him to quit, but Stiles refused. He used to dance for his mother, but now he is dancing for himself. High school has been a bitch so far, but.. it's been tolerable.

Stiles rubs a hand across his face, scrubs it up through his hair- which is _finally_ growing nicely- and draws it back down to rub his nose. He uses the back of his hand to wipe away the remaining tears before crouching to lay the bouquet of flowers against his mother's gravestone. He stands, cracks his back, and walks out of the graveyard.

  
_**A silver lining sometimes isn't enough** _

Stiles is exhausted. He just got out of today's practice, and it's nearly 6 and he hasn't done any of his homework or eaten anything but he can't really bring himself to care. He did so well at dance today, and his instructor applauded him. She said that in their next performance, he would have a lead if he wanted it. 

He's not sure if he wants it.

He's so depressed at this moment in time, he needs a change. He needs something  _different_ in his life, but he isn't sure what. Stiles lets out a large sigh and opens the mailbox to get the day's mail. Maybe he'll have a letter, that might cheer him up some. 

A glossy envelope flutters to the ground and Stiles glances down at it. It's white with a silver and blue sigil on the back. Stiles recognizes that sigil. He bites his lower lip and bends down to pick up the envelope with trembling fingers, scoops it off the ground and holds it to his chest tightly without daring to look at it. Stiles doesn't know if he even wants to see it, doesn't know if he wants to know if he's right or not as to what this envelope contains.

His curiosity overcomes his cowardice and he bolts inside, scrambles up the stairs and into his room, and slams the door before sagging onto his bed, fingers playing against the envelope, the rest of the mail forgotten in a stack on the kitchen table. Stiles takes a deep breath and tears open the envelope.

_Dear Mr. Vyacheslav Stilinski,_   
_We are pleased to make the announcement that you and your talents have caught our eyes at the Argent Institute of Dance. We have been watching you for some time and have decided that we would like to extend an offer to you. We feel that you are quite talented and would blossom even further under the careful eyes of our instructors here at the Argent Institute. We have a scholarship for you, as we are aware of your financial situation, and would be please if you accepted our invitation to study here._   
_Kindest Regards,_   
_Victoria and Chris Argent_

Stiles freezes and rereads the letter before slowly climbing to his feet and walking out of the house. He needs a breather or he  _will_ die of shock, so he decides to take a nice, long, walk.

 

 

 

 

  
  
__   



End file.
